The 22th Hunger Games
by Young MKB
Summary: Two tributes from each of twelve districts, reaped from their homes and forced to volunteer in the annual Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live T.V. Twenty four tributes between the ages of twelve and eighteen go in, and only one comes out...
1. Tribute Form and Rules

**TRIBUTE SHEET**

Name-

Gender-

District-

Age-

Appearance-

Personality-

Token (optional)-

Weaknesses-

Strengths-

Flaws (At least one)-

What does his/her mutation look like?-

View on killing-

History-

Reaped or Volunteered-

Volunteered, then why?/Reaped, then what reaction?-

Weapon-

Allies?-

Love?-

Training score-

Run to or from Cornucopia?-

Weapons they gather-

How will they die and when?-

What you want them to see when they die?-

Interview outfit (optional)-

Chariot outfit (optional)-

**Thank you very much for entering a tribute! I will make sure to use him/her in my story. The rule about entering only two tributes has been suspended. You can enter as many as you like if you want them to be in love or be special allies! Just don't go overboard, please. :-) Also note that Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy, Enobaria, and Johanna Mason haven't won yet, so please don't mention them. **

**(Sorry, I made my own character, the District 10 girl tribute and my friend wanted me to make the District 2 boy for them, because my friend doesn't have an account... ****sorry!)**

**Thanks again for entering a tribute!**


	2. List of Tributes

**District 1**

Male-

Female-

**District 2**

Male-Cade Sander

Female-Chrome Evelyn

**District 3**

Male-Mellet Kramer

Female-

**District 4**

Male-Flynn Welsh

Female-Rose Agar

**District 5**

Male-Gunnar Duncain

Female-

**District 6**

Male-

Female-Brooke Jenkins

**District 7**

Male-

Female-Brook Hartland

**District 8**

Male-

Female-Casidy Reed

**District 9**

Male-Drew MacDonald

Female-Thistle Kellik

**District 10**

Male-Joss Lae

Female- Fey Brekke

**District 11**

Male-Zeke Roy

Female-Anna Snaid

**District 12**

Male-Sage

Female-Delilah


	3. Chapter 3

**DISTRICT 10 REAPING**

I woke with a start, my eyes blinking simultaneously, taking in the drops of sunlight seeping through the windows. I listened to the cows for a second, then remembered it was the Reaping. I looked at my sun dial and saw the time. I was late.

I leaped out of bed and scurried out into the giant backyard, half naked beneath my frail see-through silver gown and not caring, to feed the cattle.

"You're late." My dad groaned, itching his nose and taking a slurp of wine I made from crushed grapes from the Vine, and leaned back in his rocking chair.

"The cows?" I squeaked with worry, seeing the buckets empty, my eyes whipping from side to side to see our beloved cattle saunter across the grass.

"That's your job, Fey. Go. Feed them." Dad flexed a scarred hand and took another slurp. I winced, remembering my duties for our cows and bulls, and went out to collect the sweet yellow corn and delicious, yet scarce, daisies. I made a small meal that would last the whole afternoon, and gathered my hand made crafts that consisted of wine, juice, flower meals, and milk, to take to the Vine.

"Make sure you get some more of that...beer..." My dad sniffed, taking another slurp of wine. I nodded stiffly before setting out. The Vine is were people traded, bought, and worked here in District 10. I would make crafts from little specimens people are willing to give away from the Vine. For example, I could trade some grapes, or gather fresh flowers, or buy some milk, and make unique creations out of them. I would take my share of creations for keeps, then trade and sell the rest.

I padded into the small, crowded, and worn store, yet was greeted by bright, happy, smiling faces of friends. There I traded a few wine bottles for a jug of warm water for the cattle, and a flower meal for a bowl of soup for breakfast that me and my dad could share.

"Anyone got any dried fruit for a good liter of milk?" I offered in a small voice.

"Sure." I heard somebody say. I got a bag of cranberries and strawberries, dry, hard, and sweet, for my good milk. I smiled at the offer and took them gratefully.

I traded a bit and returned to fill the water bucket for the cattle.

"Give me that beer." My dad snarled. I looked shock for a second, then remembered I traded all my masterpieces for food, supplies, water, milk, and a small package of butter for our next meal of steak and burger. No beer.

"Give me that beer!" He yelled, raising out of his chair and balling his fists. I dropped the bag of food and the milk clattered to the dirt, sending white streams trickling into the grass.

He grabbed my wrists and his nails dug in. I winced and opened my mouth to scream when he pushed me to my knees and, with a swift kick, sent body and face crashing down into the grass.

"Now give me that beer!" He yelled. I rolled over on my back to the side, to prevent a stomp from my dad's rough boots.

"I didn't get any!" I cried, scrambling out of the way. Before I could react, he grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me up so my legs dangled. I writhed away, ducking a punch, and dashed into the house to change into my white Reaping dress.

"Get out! I hope they fish your name! Get out!" I heard him yell as I quickly fashioned my hair into my usual two braids, pulling my loose strands of hair and pushing them behind my ears. I slid into my white slippers and ran out of the house to the square.

My mom died from sickness, leaving my dad drunk without help, and now I'm his personal punching bag and kick-me pole. I do all the work; feed the cattle, buy and trade for food, douse dad with the few medications we can afford, and even slaughter, skin, and make the meals.

I caught a glimpse of my silver eyes in a nearby trash can as I sprinted along the road, my copper hair streaming out behind me.

"Welcome! Happy Hunger Games!" I heard Blair Mer trill from the big black stage. I glared at her hatefully and grit my teeth at the daily speech by President Snow.

"Now, ladies first!" Blair grinned, her white teeth shining, her red hair sticking up in a straight line three feet tall, her aqua blue skin glittering, her pink lipstick flashing, her golden cape and purple dress gleaming in a weird fashion that looked strange with her red contacts.

Then she pulled out the name.

"Will a beautiful Fey Brekke come up to the stage?" She hummed.

Ice nails pricked my spine, then ignited on fire, sending waves of horrible pain down my back, causing my mouth to twist in a ragged frown. My fingers curled into fists, and my feet were nailed to the dirt.

"Please, come, come, we haven't all day." Blair snapped. I stiffly shook my head a bit, then managed a foot forward. Soon I was standing on the stage, looking at all my friends and enemies alike staring in my direction.

"Any volunteers?" Blair asked gently. _Volunteer, please! _I thought raggedly, my eyes narrowed and scouring the area. Nobody did.

I'm in the games.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISTRICT 2 REAPING**

I watched my last obstacle with a grin as the District Eleven girl sprinted from the bushes to grab an apple. _My _apple. I had plenty of apples, so I guess it shouldn't have mattered. Since we're the last two standing it does. I sauntered up to her as she scurried away, panting, her black eyes wide with fear as I smirked.

"No use, 11." I said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed on how easy this girl was making this for me. She scrambled away when I drew out my spear. I didn't want to do this, but if I did...man, imagine that!

"No, please! Please, no, please, no, no, please don't kill me! Please! NO!" She sputtered, her last word a scream as I picked her up by the collar of her shirt. The girl twisted and writhed, screaming.

"Please! Don't kill me!" She cried, her struggles dying as I traced her chest lightly with the tip of the blade, marking my target. The girl screamed again as I ripped a tiny circle over her shirt over her heart and plunged.

Her cries ended as I threw her body down. I won the Games!

I smiled hugely in my sleep.

"Cade! It's morning!" I heard my mother call.

I moaned slightly as I rolled over, covering my head with my pillow, then leaped out of bed, ready to get to the Reaping.

"Don't rush into the volunteering, honey. You know the risks. Consider it, first..." Mom said as I babbled about the glory I would earn once I won.

"I know, I know." I interrupted. I wolfed down another pancake and took a bite of eggs. I watched the clock anxiously as I drummed my feet under the table, eating my breakfast and talking constantly.

"I know your going to win, Cade." Griffith, my older brother, shut me up. I nodded and buttered my toast. Then the clock struck the right time. I chewed faster than I imagined possible and leaped out of bed, dressing in a small white outfit and combing back my black hair, then kissed my parents goodbye.

"Good morning, our sweet District Two!" Ariel Dux called sweetly. Her blue hair was braided about a million times, and was longer than her ankles, sprawling about the stage floor in all directions, dangling off the stage edge and almost reaching the ground below. She almost tripped over it in her high-heels and short dress when she stalked up to the bowl, her green eyes blinking excitedly.

I watched as she picked out the girl name, called it, and she walked up. I almost fainted when she stalked up to the boy's. I silently thought of all the memories I could to keep myself distracted from falling.

This is the day of the Reaping, number one. I was going to volunteer no matter what or either be reaped and go in no matter what. Sure, I'd have to kill people, but...think about what I'd gain! Fame, riches, fans, admirers, a life full of more food I could eat! I'd be known around the districts, everyone would know my name. I would train new tributes and watch them win. I'd join the many who made it this far.

People in the Trading Store would surround me every day, and the girl I've always liked in school will probably like me more. If that doesn't work, then some other random girl will! That's just how it works...if you win, you get loved.

I heard myself wheezing and focused harder to think...

"You okay?" I heard Griffith whispered besides me, his bright eyes dull with worry. I nodded and thought some more.

Last year, for my birthday, I got a good book. It was about a hero who found out his father was a villain trying to destroy the world, and went on this entire adventure to find out why. My wheezing slowed a bit, then I went to the time when I traded for the first time.

The thought of killing my first victim made my heart run the fifty-mile dash. It beat faster and faster, hammering around so hard I thought I would just BURST.

Ariel reached into the bowl...

I felt like I would blow up, thinking harder and harder, my body stiff as stone as a party broke out in my chest, causing my ragged breath to get shallower and shallower.

Ariel's lips moved a bit when she read the name, but I didn't hear the first time. I was lost in another memory.

I live a pampered life, I get great food and fine clothes. I'm treated on every Saturday to things such as cakes, candies, new blankets or books, and best of all, training lessons. My dad trains me near the border, teaches me a bit about other districts, gives me some advice, trains me, and tells me about his days in the Games.

My dad won once, and now I'm going to.

"Make sure you let them see you, feel you, and taste your power. You will always be remembered, son." He had said when I was 15. That made me smile.

I was going to make everyone be remembered. Especially those who underestimate me.

"Cade Sander!" She squealed. I smiled and ran up, stepped on a braid, and leaped next to the girl tribute. I was overjoyed.

I'M IN! I'M IN! YES!


	5. Chapter 5

**DISTRICT 11 REAPING**

I blinked open my eyes to the ceiling and calmly slipped out of bed, taking in the morning, listening to the bird's voices outside. I shook my head, letting my blonde hair fall down beside my body.

Today was the Reaping. Hopefully I didn't get picked...I wasn't exactly into the whole "killing" thing. I looked up at the birds that settled on the trees that waited outside to be treated. I smiled and drew in a light puff of air.

Once I was outside, I zipped up my jacket and settled my toes into the warmth of the big brown boots. I gently picked up the watering hose and went around the corner to fill it.

The clear water sloshed into the bucket, sending droplets spilling over the side. I pulled it away quickly to avoid spilling anymore and went to water the trees and crops.

Our corn looked ripe, and our blossom trees were blooming into color. _That's good... _I thought, admiring the pink flowers that flowed over the greenery.

"Anna, come inside, dear. It's breakfast." I heard my mom call from inside. I went to return the watering hose and joined her, settling down into our wooden seats.

"Good morning, dear." My mom said with a smile. I replied,

"You too, mom."

She made two biscuits, one for each of us, and, for a special treat, added some rare, delicious syrup on the side.

"Were did you get it?" I asked, watching the stuff with amazement.

"Traded it, for a good price." My mom smiled sweetly. I nodded and took a bite of the fluffy, buttery biscuit.

"Thanks." I said when I finished. I licked my lips, getting every specimen of the grand maple syrup, then got up to see the dress my mother picked out.

A small white dress laced with silver string, complete with my usual Reaping-only ballet shoes that were pure black and recently polished. I let my mom comb my hair down, and slipped into the delightful dress.

Then there was a knock on the door. I looked at the door in wonder as my friend stepped out, holding something in her hands.

"Hello, Anna." She said. I nodded as she came in and held the thing out to me, and I smiled at the sight of a beautiful, decorated bead necklace. It was so colorful, and so _detailed, _too!

She gave it to me and left as fast as she came. I fingered around with it for a bit, going over the thought of how generous the gift was, and slipped it on my neck, smiling.

"You like that?" My mom asked, brushing my hair so it felt like silk.

"Yes, it's generous." I replied, tracing the beads as I stared into the mirror.

"Good." Mom's lips brushed my forehead gently as she finished my hair.

I felt at my hair, feeling the softness, and smiled at my Mom. She was an expert when it came to styling hair.

My Mom lead me outside, hugged me, and sent me on my way.

I sauntered down the square, thinking about what would happen if I was picked, and what would happen if I wasn't. I hated the idea of having to go into the arena to kill people, especially if those people were trying to kill me, too. Also...what if...they chose...

I didn't want to think about what would happen if they chose somebody I loved.

"Hello, District 11!" A strange voice greeted me. I looked up to see Velvet Mac'Grail, her pink hair in a ridiculous bun, her long green dress down to her ankles, the sleeves down to her wrists, and the...was that a fake tiger tail coming out of her behind?

President Snow stepped up to the stage to do his speech, which he did every year. I listened closely, even though I heard it four times now. Once he was done, Velvet practically screamed at the top of her lungs,

"LADIES FIRST!"

She skipped merrily over to the bowl, prodded it a bit, then reached in. Her hand flitted around for a second when she pulled out a name.

"Will a brave soul named Anna Snaid come up?" She said.

What?

I felt confused, then felt the tears running down my face, trickling down my cheeks, and dripping off my chin and onto my chest. I felt like a statue, standing there while Velvet cursed under her breath and called,

"Come, dear, please!"

I took tiny steps forward, and it felt like a decade before I stood on the giant stage, weeping.

"Volunteers?" Velvet piqued, turning her nose to the crowd as tears rushed down my face. I sobbed, horror leaching the sense out of me, and I simply balled when nobody volunteered.

_Please, volunteer, please! Please, don't make me go into this...don't make me go into this..._

My mind buzzed for a second, taking in the information;

I'm in.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISTRICT 11 REAPING**

I stared out the window, watching the stars fade off into the sky, being replaced with the bright glittering sun. I'm not sure how long I've been awake, but I remember waking up early, clutching my pillow, the memories of the nightmare already fading away.

Today's the Reaping, and it means the beginning of this year's Hunger Games, were more tributes are thrown in to die. If I could reverse the day it was created, I would.

If only I could.

I smiled at the sight of the beautiful crops that bedazzled our large backyard, and laughed when a bird whistled the morning tune.

I clambered out of bed and slipped into my shoes, then threw over my step-dad's jacket. It felt warm and soft on the inside, and I was abruptly enraptured in the silky texture.

"Good morning." I silently smiled while I passed my step-mom, who was fixing up some breakfast.

"You too, Zeke." She mumbled while buttering a small toast. I nodded and watched a bird sail through the blue sky while I padded out into the grassy area. It was so beautiful in the mornings, with the birds, the trees, the air...there's so much fresh air in the mornings! I breathed lightly, taking in every bit of the landscape that stretched across our home.

I checked the leaves, picked some fruit and put them out to dry for the next day, when we'd slice them and wash them for trade.

I picked up the big silver bucket of water and used the scoop to water each tree and crop, observing the sweet smell of corn, the grand spice in the air from the mints, and the shining brilliance from the blossoms.

Once they were all cared for and watered, I strolled inside to take my seat at the table. My adopted parents and siblings surrounded me, smiles on their faces. My step-sister, however, didn't get along well with me.

"Hello..." I trailed off when I saw her glare at me.

"What?" I asked, shrugging it off when I saw the small toast in front of me.

"He took my Sally Doll!" She suddenly screeched, rising out of her chair and jabbing a finger at me, her blue gaze unwavering. I stared back at her wide-eyed, then gave her a small thumbs up and took a bite of my toast.

It's our usual morning. My step-sister always blaming me for something.

"Zeke, give it back." My step-dad groaned, leaning back in his chair to eat his toast.

"What? I didn't even take it!" I snapped, licking my fingers to get the crumbs off.

"EW! HE'S LICKING!" My sister shrieked, sticking her tongue out.

I rolled my eyes and finished off my toast before changing into my Reaping outfit. Once I was ready, my brown hair brushed back, I padded down to the square with my step-sister beside me. She had her long brown hair in a ponytail, and her dress fluttered around her knees.

"You _did _take my Sally Doll, didn't you, Zeke?" She smacked my shoulder. I shrugged and wandered into the square.

My eyes went over the escort, named Velvet, with flowing pink hair in a bun, a long dress with long sleeves, even though it was hot out here...what...a tiger tail? Seriously? Were was this lady born?

I frowned during the speech I heard what seems to be a billion times when she leaped over to the girl's bowl.

A small girl with long blonde hair and brown eyes sobbed herself to the stage. Her beautiful face shone in the light, yet I was overwhelmed by her sadness. Why was she crying? I felt the urge to go up and help her, to calm her down and all...

I couldn't focus when suddenly Velvet cried,

"Zeke Roy!"

She...she called my name. I was frozen until my sister gave me a shove. I stumbled forward, images of bloody tributes flashing in my mind, yet I stood up strong.

I flexed my hand slowly, easing my muscles, then trotted up to the stage to stand by the crying girl. My eyes have been glued to her since she got up, and they still were as Velvet asked for volunteers. I stared at her, inspecting every aspect of her perfect self, when a realization like a ton of bricks hit me.

I was in the Games.

I was going in, and only one of the people in there is coming out. Will it be me? Will it be her? Chances are it's going to be some random career.

Should I kill her? Will she kill me? Will I even live the first minute? Am I going to survive?

The questions swerve over me and I can barely move. The moments replay in my head.

The crying girl walking up to the stage, me sucking in a worried breath and realizing I'm in, and now...

Me just staring at her.

She looked at me, stifled a cry, and looked at her shoes. I looked back at Velvet, who leaped in her shoes when she said,

"District 11, this years tributes for the HUNGER GAMES!"


	7. Chapter 7

**DISTRICT 12 REAPING**

When the sun streamed through the windows, I knew it was morning.

"Good morning..." I mumbled, realizing I wasn't taking to anybody but myself. Both parents, dead. Siblings? None. I didn't care. I had my freedom, my strength, and an ongoing determination I sometimes forgot I had.

I slunk out of bed, pulled out my braid, and let the long pale blond strands fall by my waist.

After putting together a small breakfast with the healthy garden's fruits and spice, I ate, savoring every delicious piece.

"Happy Hunger Games..." I muttered to myself before taking the last bite, silently reminding myself to get into my Reaping dress I made from traded yarn.

The spice lingered in my tongue as brushed my teeth with a hand-me-down toothbrush. I pulled my head back from the sink after rinsing my mouth out with water and stared into the mirror.

The girl stared back, her silvery green eyes undying in the light. I grinned at my reflection, then picked up the wooden brush and pulled my hair back.

"Just you and me." I said to myself, brushing out a small tangle in my hair. My reflection spoke the words as easily as my lips moved, and I smiled.

Once my hair was as soft as cotton, I pulled it back out of the way so I could stare at my reflection before saying,

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

I sprinted away, my hair flowing behind me like a cape, then slipped on my silver Mockingbird necklace, it's coal eyes shimmering, marking District's 12 pride.

Then I looked at the dresser and calmly walked over before taking out the beautiful white dress and silver shoes.

As I slipped in, I thought about the food shortage. I then decided to visit the Hob to get some bread and toast for the next day.

"Hello, Delilah." A peacekeeper greeted me as I stepped in, clenching the steel I held in my left hand. I smiled and nodded before stepping up to a woman with a piece of fresh bread, who was looking for a decent trade.

"I've got eight pieces of steel. You could use it for some soup." I said, holding up the coins. The woman nodded and traded me for the bread, which was bigger than I thought. I had to carry it in two hands without dropping it.

I brought it back over to my house, covered it in some wrap, and lay it out on the counter and scribbled the date on top with a granite stone that was sharpened into a small pencil.

"Good morning!" A voice buzzed from the speaker as I arrived at the crowded square. Kids walked around me, and I felt mushed despite the fact this was the smallest district in Panem.

I looked at the lady, who had brick red hair that was in the shape of a leaping fox, lunging forward, and bobbed on her head when she moved.

Wendy Puffins.

"Welcome!" She trilled, her short skirt and flowing see-through purple shirt making her walk weird as she stepped up on the stage.

I frowned when President Snow did the same speech he did every year.

"LADIES FIRST!" Wendy said, then leaped over to the bowl, her green skin looking like leaves as she reached in, her hand flailing around flatly.

"Will Delilah come up?" She announced. At first I couldn't hear her, I was busy fiddling with the necklace, humming to myself.

"Delilah? Delilah...DELILAH!" I heard her screech. I then looked up at her, and all the air was drained from me.

I whipped my head from side to side, just to see if there was another Delilah, when suddenly I felt light-headed.

"What?" I whispered to myself in disbelief. I cocked my head, my skin paling, when I looked down at my necklace. The coal eyes of the mockingbird stared into mine, and memories of my dying mother haunted me.

I took a shaky step forward, my eyes fixated forward, when I was struck by one of my common spells. I was entranced, and felt like I would burst, horrified of visions of me in the arena, being killed and hunted by other tributes...

Was I really being put into this?

When I stepped up to the stage, frozen as a stone, I felt my blood go cold. I was ice when Wendy asked for volunteers.

Nobody volunteered.

I was dizzy, yet couldn't even lean to show it. I was simply overpowered by fear that was now draining the heat out of me. I didn't want to do this! I didn't want to be in the Games! I rather be at home, picking some grapes and tending to the spices...

Could I ever eat the bread I had just recently bought?

The world flipped upside-down when I realized,

I'm in the Hunger Games.

A fight-to-the-death on live TV.

I'm in the Hunger Games.

A challenge unlike any other.

I'm in the Hunger Games.

I'm not dead, but feel like I am. I'm alive, but as good as dead.

I'm in.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISTRICT 7 REAPING**

When I opened my eyes to the morning, I knew that it was the Reaping. I smiled to myself at the sight of sunlight pouring through the windows and lighting up the room with every bit of beautiful the world had to offer.

"Honey, it's morning!" I heard my mother say from the kitchen. I heard a bit of scuffling, then saw her face peering over mine with a smile on her face.

"Good morning." I said in a small voice, flexing my toes from beneath the thin blue covers.

"You too. Come to the kitchen for some toast and milk." She smiled, brushing the hair out of my face. I nodded and slipped out of bed. My mom watched me for a second, then went downstairs to join my dad and brother.

I rolled my shoulders, tensing my muscles that have been bunched up all night, and pulled my ponytail out, and my brown and blonde hair fell down to my sides.

I slipped on some slippers and joined my family downstairs.

"Good morning, Brook." My father said, taking a bite of toast. I sat between him and my brother, with my mom in front of us, settling down herself for some toast.

I ate my toast, that was smeared in special and rare cheese, that my brother traded from the stores that surrounded the district.

"Good? I got a new kind this time..." My brother asked, taking a large bite of toast. I nodded silently, taking another bite of the stuff, and drawing in a breath before saying,

"What type?"

"Goat Cheese." My brother grinned, taking a sip of milk. I nodded and flexed my feet beneath the table, smiled with relief, and took another bite of toast.

Once I was done and excused, I decided to visit a store for something nice to trade for. I brought along an old book and a basket of grapes, just in case.

"I've got some grapes and a book." I said silently when I arrived. A man with a mustache smiled at my offer and I traded the book and a few grapes for a bag of fruit and a can of milk.

"Thank you." I whispered after trading the rest of the grapes for a roll of bread. When I returned home, my parents were delighted with the new food and quickly saved it.

I trotted back to my room to get dressed into my Reaping dress, which was a long white dress that stopped at my ankles, with no sleeves and a small ragged flower on the chest. I grinned with satisfactory and padded into the tiny bathroom.

I looked into the mirror to greet my pale blue eyes.

I brushed my hair back and braided it once, then slowly brushed my teeth and did a small face-wash with my soap we bought once long ago. We only use it for occasions like this.

When I was done, I slipped into my worn ballet shoes and said goodbye to my parents before heading down to the square.

The square was completely crowded, and I had to push around people to get to a place were I could _breath _a bit more successfully.

"Sorry..." I whispered gently after ramming into a few twelve-year olds who were huddled up anxiously, their eyes bulging.

I remembered how I secretly trained for the Games just in case and tried not to feel nervous when President Snow read the speech. Once Fernus, the escort, wheeled up to the girl's bowl, I couldn't help but wonder if it would be me or not...

"Ladies first." She said quietly, her nightmarish bald head covered by a gelatin hat, which made me even more nervous by the creepiness of it.

She fished around before pulling out the name that will change one girl's life forever.

"Brook...Hartland!" She called, her voice ringing over the crowd.

I felt like I had been zapped by an electric shock, the energy draining from me, and suddenly felt scared.

What if I died in the Games? Would it be a slow, painful death? Would I have to kill somebody?

I felt frozen as ice for a second.

I felt as stiff as stone for a second.

The muddled thoughts confused me when I realized I had been training for this all my life. It might not be that bad...would it?

Even so, I found myself determined to win, and determined to win I would be. I'm tough! I definitely had a chance of winning! Yeah...yeah, I could do this! Just try.

I plowed up the steps, moving with easy strides until I stood by the crazy escort. I drew in the information, one by one, easily, and with such grace I felt like I was floating when I realized that I was going into the Hunger Games.

Okay, it'll be okay. I breathed slowly, thinking about winning and coming back to my family to bring them fame and riches, and I'll be able to feed them, buy them new clothes...

The possibilities were endless.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISTRICT 4 REAPING**

When I woke up, I knew the day had finally come. The Reaping. My third. I thought about what this meant, I was going to be sent into the square to see if I would be picked or not for this year's Hunger Games. A fight-to-the-death on live TV. Twenty four tributes to be thrown into an arena consisting of who-knows-what...maybe a jungle or meadow, or forest or desert. Either way, it's the complete wilderness. I would be against the world and the twenty three tributes trying to kill me. Either way I would be facing mutations created by the Capitol, like wolf-humans or lizard-dogs...it could be anything.

All against me and each other.

Yet, of course, I would have allies. Strong packs of tributes called Careers who band together and rely on each other, pick off enemies, and take over the Golden Cornucopia to take the best weapons and food.

I'd be one of them, one of the strong kids using their wits and strength to survive. I've been training for it since I was 9. I would be a Career.

If I got picked, anyway. I probably wouldn't, there's hundreds of us in District 4.

"Rose? Rose, darling, come down for some special rolls." I heard my Mom call from the kitchen. I rose and shook my head, letting my choppy black hair swing around before settling down.

"Coming!" I replied, scurrying down to the kitchen to join them at the table.

"Good morning." I greeted them before settling down into my wooden chair. My dad passed the rolls around the table, giving Mom and I a pretty silver plate topped with two rolls dotted with salt and tinted with the green of seaweed, and smothered with cheese sauce.

It was a very special breakfast, and there was even some grapes on the side. I ate mine slowly, savoring every bite when my Dad said,

"Your going to volunteer this year?"

"No, I'm not sure." I said, feeling the nervous feeling I felt every Reaping morning. The feeling that told me to volunteer, mixed with the feeling to leave it alone.

"Okay. Wanna train after breakfast? We can do it for about 30 minutes...enough to go over your throwing skills. Just in case." He said, taking a bite of the roll.

I nodded, feeling excited for the training, then finished off my grapes before eating the rest of the roll I missed.

One I finished, I put on my grey jacket and slipped into my heavy pants and shoes before setting out after my Dad.

Once we arrived in the area were we trained, I smiled with anticipation when my Dad opened the weapon-pack. He withdrew an ax, a few daggers and knives, and a spear. My favorite things to throw.

He set up the small targets and we did some stretches. I leaned down to touch my toes and, when I was finally done, started throwing the spears and knives.

I nailed a target in the middle, nailed a few around the 50-point layer, yet mostly and masterly hit the 100-point middle with ease.

Training has paid off when I entered the house tired and worn. I lay in bed for a second, letting my muscles relax, then sprang up to brush my hair down and slip into my extravagant white Reaping dress.

"Remember you can always volunteer if you want." My dad reminded me as I slipped into my shoes.

"Don't rush." My mom added as she scurried across the kitchen. I nodded and pulled my hair out of my face before setting off to the giant square.

"Happy Hunger Games!" I heard the escort, Madeline Glen, trill, her voice ringing out over everything else.

She had red skin, literally red, like a tomato. Her eyes were icy blue, which looked weird with her pale green hair that was all curly and short.

Madeline's fat body was studded with gems, like diamonds, emeralds, rubies and opals, that covered her body like a suit. Her shoes were also jewels rather than physical clothes. It was strange in her presence.

"Now, ladies first." She said, sauntering over to pick out a name. I listened closely as she said,

"Rose Agar!" Her voice blew out over the air, spreading out, it's sound curling over heads and faces like arms, enrapturing us in darkness until we made sense of the words.

I was going into the Games unless somebody volunteered.

Suddenly, I felt excited, but a little nervous at the same time. I could win fame and fortune for my family, yet maybe die in the process.

I padded up to the stage to stand next to Madeline, who trotted up to the boy's bowl. While she fished for a name, I thought about what I would go thought.

I was being put into the Hunger Games to fight against all odds, and while Madeline called the boy's name, I considered one thing...

Where the odds in my favor?


	10. Chapter 10

**DISTRICT 4 REAPING**

It didn't make any sense. None at all. The girl running towards me, her pale blonde hair flowing out behind her, her silvery green eyes large with terror as she called out my name...

I sat on the bed, clutching the white covers dappled with blue designs, lost in the memory of the dream. It had to mean something, didn't it? Maybe not, I didn't even know that girl. I thought back to what I saw, trying to sort out the features in her porcelain face.

The drapes blew back from the windows and the salty taste from outside's beautiful ocean broke out over me, like the waves did during the summer. The strong raging blue crashing down on the crystal studded rocks...

I turned my attention back to the dream in which the girl came running after me. I didn't recognize her face. She wasn't from District Four.

Where?

Perhaps it was all my imagination. _Dreams do that to you. _I remembered. The image still bothered me. My mind looked for a name, any name, that could belong to such a figure. She looked like her name was Doll, or maybe Orchid. She looked a bit like a Brooklyn, maybe that's who she was, but I never met anybody named Doll, Orchid, or Brooklyn.

Who was she...?

The question nagged at me until I finally realized I was babbling over a dream. I then chose to ignore it and focused on the fresh scent that whisked into the room through the window I kept open all night.

Colorful bands of light swelled through the room, giving the house a crimson glow. I smiled at the cry of the gulls and could make out the loud crashing of waves in the distance, waking up as well as the rest of us.

My vision blurred for a second, and I frowned as my sight failed me. When things cleared again, I opened my eyes to see the girl's face right in front of mine. Her silvery green eyes, her pale blonde hair threading out behind her...

"Flynn!" She called.

I blinked rapidly, then it faded like mist.

"Flynn!" I heard her call again. I shook my head. _Great, now I'm seeing things _and _hearing things! _I thought.

"Flynn? Flynn Welsh. Honey, it's breakfast."

What was she talking about? Wait, no. That was my Mom calling me.

"Coming." I replied. I leaped out of bed and rushed down stairs, the edges of my eyes watery and blurry. I hit my head on the corner of the wall while turning for the hundredth time before joining my father at the table.

"Did you hit your head?" My mom gasped as she placed the steaming bowl of shrimp and crab soup in front of me.

"I'm fine." I muttered, my head clearing while my temples throbbed. Ouch. It happened almost every day.

"You gonna volunteer?" My dad sniffed as he crumbled up some crackers in his fist. I shook my head. Why would I? The Hunger Games was a cruel and unfair way to get things done. Killing each other? Thrown into an arena? I didn't really care about it.

"Nope?" My dad said, acting surprised, when suddenly his eyes narrowed down at his soup as he added,

"Good riddance."

I nodded in agreement and fished out a shrimp before adding the salty crispy crackers.

"Take your time." My mom said as I ate the soup faster than usual. I slowed down a bit, savoring the taste, and sipped up the last of it.

I drank the rest of my milk before going upstairs to get changed into my white shirt and light blue faded jeans. I slid into my black shoes and tied the laces before brushing my hair and teeth, and, specially, washed my face with our small orange soap.

Once I got to the square, the gulls were calling as loud as ever as if they knew the 22nd Hunger Games would begin. I made my way into the crowded space and saw a small girl with choppy black hair and grey blue eyes make her way up to the stage.

Her name was...Rose...Rose Agar, I think.

"Flynn Welsh!" I heard Madeline Glen, the crazy looking escort, call. At first I was shocked, but then I looked down at my feet, desperate for a clue.

"Flynn?" Madeline cried, a bit confused. I nodded and made my way up, hastily picking at my nails like I had something better to do.

I walked up to the stage, bent on sharpening my nails, when I saw the girl again.

Her face, her skin, her eyes, her hair...her feel. She was right in front of me. I stared in shock, still picking my nails, as she vanished as a salty breeze gushed by.

Was it a sign?

I thought about how the girl was running towards me in my sleep, her eyes wide with terror, plowing towards me as my eyes slammed shut and darkness burst over me.

What did it mean?

It definitely meant one thing. I was in the Hunger Games, and that was probably a girl I would come across. Probably a girl I would have to either kill or save.

My lips finally found and formed a name.

"Delilah." I whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

**DISTRICT 9 REAPING**

When I woke up, I had to say, it was confusing.

I was so excited, wanting to lunge forward to volunteer for the bloody and fiery Hunger Games, to kill everything in my path. On the other hand, I wanted to curl up under the lime green covers and whisk the existence of the bogus Games to it's end.

I considered this, rolling it around in my head, trying to settle down on one fact, when suddenly a voice yelled,

_Volunteer for the stupid thing! Get in their and strut your stuff! Grab a knife and tear the throats out of anyone who said otherwise! _

I smirked at the thought.

While a soft whisper said,

_This is unfair. You know it is. The Capitol shouldn't be doing this to kids, it's terrible. Don't volunteer. Be happy if somebody else is picked._

My smirk softened into a light smile, glad my name was only going in three times, compare that to all the other people in District 9.

I don't like killing, while I'm ready to tear out hearts with a spear. I was afraid to be apart from my loving mother, while I was happy to get away from her mushy lips.

I looked inside myself, searching for an answer. Nothing. I was torn as I always am, even when facing the simplest decisions...like wether or not to dip my waffle in the syrup.

Sometimes trouble faced me like this and I had to think and think before finally decided.

More commonly I would just flip out and do one or the other.

I blinked slowly as the sky lit up with the sun, the stars fading in it's glorious light.

Glorious? Actually, it was blinding and it made me irritated. I squinted in disgust and buried my face in my pillow.

"Thistle!" I heard my mom call. I suddenly felt angry that she was calling for me this early in the morning. _Lay off, bug meat!_ I thought about saying, and my eyes narrowed. Then they widened slowly into a soft roundish shape and I replied,

"Coming!" I felt cheery and joyful before adding under my breath,

"Can't wait to get away from you..." Then smirked a bit at that.

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to get away from her or get closer to her.

I love my mom! Why would I want to get away from her?

I made my way downstairs and she said,

"Good morning, sweetheart."

I smiled at that when she continued,

"Can you please trade the grain we harvested last week? The Twined is just around the corner."

I knew were the Twined was, I've been going and trading there all my life. I rolled my eyes and scoffed before taking the large buckets of grain and set out to the Twined.

The Twined is a pretty recent trading store. It came about when I was about a month old, and believe me, that's recent. Many other things, like the Justice Building and houses are old. Really old.

Why did they call it the Twined? Huh. Some things people may just never know. I never did, probably never will.

Maybe it's because it's a run down jet black building covered in intertwining rose vines, with blooming color bursting from it. Also, everybody there is happy and friendly. It's pretty worn, but inside it's clean. It's made from traded lumber from District 7, which is really outside is as clean as the inside, but it's a bit twisted because the entire thing is crooked.

The base goes up, but if you trace the edges, your finger will spasm about three feet up and jerk to the side for a while before twisting inwards a few feet deep (which leaves a strange dent in the side of it) then up again until it reaches the top, were it twists oddly to form a cone shaped roof.

I entered the Twined feeling bubbly, so I greeted them kindly with a large smile and talked sweetly when I traded.

"Bread, butter, roll, fruit, corn." I counted the small goods I traded for the grain. Once I entered the house, I smiled at the sight of a delicious breakfast of eggs and rare apples.

I ate quickly, devouring the sweet apples and demolishing the eggs faster than I ever had, some instinct telling me it was for powering up for battle.

I shook the thought away when I ran upstairs to get dressed into a white dress and white shoes. I brushed my blonde hair back and fixed it in a small bun before sprinting out to my bathroom to brush my teeth. My pale face glittered as I splashed a bit of hot water onto it. I found myself smiling at my bright blue eyes before I turned and dashed down the stairs and out to the square.

"Ladies first!" A creepy lady with random crazy makeup screamed as she fished out a name. I shuddered as she read,

"Milo Urai!" Her voice was so loud. My chest heaved into spasms, when I suddenly realized that Milo was my best friend. I haven't seen Milo all day! It scared me to know that she was going into this...

Or was she?

What would happen? Would I die? Would I live?

_Volunteer! Get a chance to rip some guts!_

_Volunteer, you can't let Milo die! Do it for your best friend._

The voices ran through me, but they both brought the same message. I screeched at the top of my lungs instinctively,

"I VOLUNTEER!"


	12. Chapter 12

**DISTRICT 9 REAPING**

I looked up at the ceiling above me, my fingers twitching. I didn't know why, but something told me that something horrible was going to happen today. I turned my head to see my sister, Sapphire, sound asleep. I looked to the other side to see my twin Adi asleep as well. I let out a sigh of relief.

Sapphire stirred beside me and her eyes fluttered open. I smiled as her blue eyes twinkled in the starlight that trickled through the small window on the ceiling.

"Drew?" She began, but I silenced her softly and murmured,

"It's okay, Sapphire. Go to sleep. It's still night." I stroked her golden hair and watched as her droopy eyelids fell over her eyes and she faded into sleep. I felt Adi tap on my shoulder.

"What?" I whispered as I turned to see her.

"What? What are _you _doing up so late?" She said, meeting my gaze at the ceiling.

"Oh...me? Nothing." I said. Adi looked at me for a minute, her deep blue eyes unwavering, then turned and settled down into a daze. I then turned back to the ceiling to see a shooting star boom over the sky out from the window. I gasped in awe as it fluttered through the air, then disappeared in the distance.

Once it was gone, I smiled hugely as the stars slowly faded into a deep orange sunrise. The cold of the night was replaced with a warming feel.

"Drew!" I heard my mother call, and I was brought out of my daze as the sun rose up.

"Drew, Sapphire, Adi MacDonald! Please come for breakfast!" My mother's voice rang out. I shook my head and clambered over Sapphire, who haven't even stirred yet. Adi got up as well.

"Wake up, Sapphire." I said, patting her shoulder. Her eyes burst open and she screeched,

"Ah! What?" She blinked, her eyes wide.

"It's okay." I soothed her. She calmed down a bit then climbed out of bed.

I padded out across the study room with my sisters, my feet moving gracefully as we made our way into the huge kitchen.

I smiled at the sight of delicious cheese buns and waffles. A real treat, because it was usually just toast. This time my mother even made us fruit syrup, made from crushed fruit and sweet sauce.

"Thanks." I said, and all of us ate our delicious breakfast. We said nothing as we ate the cheese buns and waffles, yet babbled on as we made our way back into our room and to the bathroom.

"Should I wear a braid? Two braids? Oh, I know! Maybe a bun, or just down? Perhaps I should have pigtails..." Sapphire said as she brushed out her gold hair. Adi was just as talkative.

"White ribbon or black ribbon? Ponytail or braided bun? Silver dress or white dress? White shoes or white pointy shoes?" Adi said, looking at all her options, letting her blonde hair raise and fall as she scurried across the room.

"I'll just go with the usual!" I laughed, combing out my blonde hair that had unique blue tips. My blue eyes laughed with me as I brushed my teeth, then slipped into my Reaping outfit.

"What do I do?" Sapphire wailed after she was in her dress, but still wondered about her hair. I chuckled then walked over to her and braided it twice down her back.

"Cute!" She giggled, then she slid into her shoes.

"I'll just go with braided bun." I heard Adi murmur. She carefully and gracefully braided her hair back a few times, then fixed it in a bun on top of her head.

Once they were done, we padded to the square.

"Ladies first!" The crazy lady screeched, and there was this whole thing were someone named Milo got picked and a girl with long blonde hair volunteered. The crowd was silent. Even us.

"Now, the BOYS!" The lady screamed. I covered my ears until she pulled out a name.

"Jonathan Trill!" The lady said. Oh no. That was Sapphire's best friend. I couldn't think for a second, when suddenly Sapphire was running towards him, calling his name. The boy stopped and looked at her sadly. He was ill. He have been ill for a while.

"No..." I whispered, then ran up to him and yelled,

"I volunteer!"

I wasn't thinking straight, or was I? No, I was. There's a reason I volunteered. I couldn't let either of them, Sapphire or Jonathan, suffer. I had a job to do.

"No! No, Drew!" Sapphire clutched my hand. I tugged away and looked at the ground.

"I volunteer." I repeated. I walked up to the stage, determination surging through me, and stepped up.

"What's your name?" The lady asked.

"Drew..." I said, thinking about my sisters, my mother, my father I never knew...

I suddenly realized that they rested in my grasp. I was determined to win.

"Drew MacDonald." I said loudly.


	13. Chapter 13

**DISTRICT 3 REAPING**

I looked at my feet that poked out from beneath the short quilt. I wiggled my bare toes, my stiff muscles like ice from the cool air that flowed through the thin window. Smiling, I pushed the hair out of my eyes and looked out the window. Outside, the factories whirred to life. Technology. At first sight, it kind of gives District 3 the idea of being a smarty-pants place, but I don't think so.

My father's an idiot and alcoholic...what's so smart about that? My mother's too much of a coward to do anything for that. I tutor for my sister, who struggled a bit with her grades. I'm just average, I guess.

_So there's my practical family._ I think slowly as I slide out of bed and hurry downstairs to wake up my sister, Rayma, in her room.

When I arrived, she was sound asleep.

"Rayma?" I asked silently. She didn't wake up. My first thought was deep sleep, but when I shook her she still didn't wake up.

"Rayma?" I asked again, shaking her harder this time. She barely twitched. Suddenly laughter and guffaw burst from behind me. I jumped about six inches into the air, my neck prickling, then whipped around to see my father, holding a bottle of beer and laughing his face off.

"What?" I looked at the beer, then at his face. What did he do? I answered the question on my own when I remembered Rayma complaining about her orange juice was disgusting yesterday morning. Why would he do that, though?

I drew in the information as my father snarled,

"Well, it was worth it. Now he can sleep all day as your name is drawn and your whisked away...huh...Yeah!" He then sputtered into some other words, clearly drunk, then slunk away.

I looked at Rayma sadly and pulled the covers over her face. She didn't have to enter her name at all to go to the games, and if I got my name pulled, then she wouldn't have to see it. Maybe it is better for her...?

I turned to make myself breakfast downstairs (Mom was sick) and ate slowly.

Afterwards, I made my way back to my room to see Rayma, sweaty and standing there, shaky. Very shaky.

"What's wrong?" I asked calmly, scooping her up and setting her down on the bed.

"What if...what if you get chosen?" She asked raggedly.

"I won't. There's billions of people here in 3." I said. She looked at me, her black eyes undying, then looked at the ground.

"Maybe." She huffed. I quickly got dressed while she slipped back under the dark black covers. I nodded in determination as she asked,

"It's going to be okay?"

I honestly didn't know. Would it be okay? I considered this while padding down to the bathroom were I combed my black hair back and brushed my teeth.

When I went back into my room to slide into the brown shoes, Rayma was awake, staring at me, her youthful black eyes wide.

"You sure you won't be picked?" She asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure. Everything will be fine." I replied, annoyed on how she doubted my determination.

Rayma stared for a second longer, then turned and stuck her hand under her pillow and withdrew it. In her hand was a silver watch.

"What's that?" I asked curiously. Rayma grabbed my hand and slid the watch into place.

"For good luck." She whispered. I nodded and kissed her on the forehead before slipping into my shoes and setting off to the cold outside.

Fumes from the factories sometimes smelled bad, and it's as if it was agreeing with the fact it was a bad day; it stunk.

I held my breath until I arrived at the giant square. I squeezed my way through and stood in place while swarms of people murmured around me.

"Attention, citizens of 3!" The escort, Peggy Wander, stood up on the stage and practically yelled at us,

"HAPPY HUNGER GAMES! AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!"

I winced as she slammed her hand against the microphone, just to check it. A bang washed over my ears.

"Mental." I heard a kid beside me whisper.

Then, after picking a girl's name, she picked the boy name.

"Mellent Kramer!" She cried.

Oh no. What? Me going into the Games? No! I forced myself to stay calm as butterflies swarmed in my stomach.

I knew I had to go up, or I would be forced to, so I strode up gracefully.

"What a courageous young man!" Peggy gasped as I stood next to her. I was calm until suddenly I realized...

Who would take care of Rayma?


	14. Chapter 14

**DISTRICT 10 REAPING**

I looked outside as the cattle rummaged across the green grass, mooing to each other and grunting in reply. As usual. I watched as one brayed up at the sky, his muscles rippling under his majestic brown fur, his pounding hooves moving gracefully.

Watching them, I tore my attention off the giant creature and looked at a cow as she grazed, her teeth grounding together as she uprooted rare grass that patched the area like islands in the giant ocean, which is the dirt.

Some families are fortunate enough to plant grass all over their fields and even get some luck of daisies and orchids for themselves. Some can even afford seeds that sprout grape vines.

One family sticks out in mind. The Brekke family around the corner. They have lush grass and beautiful grape vines. A girl lives there with her father...I've seen him, he's huge with jet red hair and dark grey eyes and gnarly fists. Mr. Brekke hangs around at the bar sometimes, spending all he got for beer and wine.

I've only seen his daughter, Fey, once. She was in a frayed T-Shirt and jeans, and she was scurrying around, refilling her father's bottles. Bruises lined her spine and collarbone. I never understood why her silver eyes seemed to be drained of color and why her skin was bruised like that.

The sun soon blossomed with color, and the cows brayed at each other with the immense heat. My gaze flickered around them, and seeing their water half full, the grass green enough for the day, I decided to go down and make myself some breakfast.

Once I slid out of bed, I almost jumped back in with the heat that flooded through the floor. Oh, darn it; I had forgotten to lay the ice down on the wood. Every night it's the same. I have to do it, or else the heat from the sun outside would ruin the small house the mayor provided me.

I hurried downstairs, scrambled outside, then ran straight to the Vine, our trading store.

Once I arrived, I sighed at the feel of the small fan that buzzed, rotating and cooling the room slightly. We had little electricity, so once in a while, the fan would shut off, and a small old woman with pale white hair would turn it back on and babble some curses.

I went right to a man with a stubble and grey hair.

"Ice?" I asked. He nodded, turned, and scuffled around a bit before pulling out a can. Inside should of been ice, but his brows furrowed at the sight of melted water.

"I'll take it." I said, because when I stuck my hand in it, it was cool. The man nodded and held out his hand. I fished around in my pocket and pulled out a few steel coins.

"How much?" I asked. The man held up three fingers. Three pieces of steel for ice? Are we that desperate? I put two in his hand, and he glared at me.

"Please?" I asked. He grunted, muttered something under his breath, then slammed the can down so about half of the water spilled out over the top and sauntered away.

I took the can and turned to see Fey leave the Vine in a frail see-through nightgown. She held a cup of milk and a bag full of some things she must of traded. As she left, I couldn't help but tuck the can of water under my jacket and skirt outside to watch her leave.

I almost wanted to follow her, to find out what her life was like, but I was already running back to the small house.

Once I was back inside, I used the can of water to carefully wet the floor, but it almost evaporated right off the wood. Ice worked much better. I frowned, then went to my cabinet and withdrew a slightly stale roll. I cut off the crust and ate the rest of the inside and drank the rest of the water that I didn't use.

I then went to the bathroom, slid into a grey shirt and black shorts, and put on dark red shoes that belonged to my father.

Afterwards, I went to the bathroom to comb out my dark brown tangled hair, that could easily be mistaken as black hair.

I brushed my teeth and washed my hands with a tiny soap, then headed out to the square.

It was extremely crowded, and I couldn't make out a single face, because every one I tried to observe was replaced with another person trying to cram in. I almost fell three times, and was knocked to the side five times, hit in the head two, and mistaken as someone else four times.

Finally, a lady with insanely unfashionable makeup trotted up to the stage, her hair sticking up straight. Blair...that's her name. Weird.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She hooted, then leaped over to the girl's bowl after saying,

"Ladies FIRST!"

She fished her hand around, then pulled out a name.

It was Fey.

I stared in shock and my eyes scoured the area for her. Fey was nowhere to be seen. Finally she stiffly walked up, her face pale, her silver eyes black, her copper hair like white fire blazing in the sun. Two braids bobbed on her back, and she stood up on the stage.

"Joss Lae!" Was the boy's name.

Guess what? That's me.

I felt as if lightning surged through my veins, but acted like it was nothing.

_Show no fear... _I thought. I shook my head and calmly strode up. Once I reached the stage, I met Fey's unwavering gaze. Her expression said,

_I've seen you before. I can't kill you._


	15. Chapter 15

**DISTRICT 12 REAPING**

I smiled when the sun pushed aside all the bad things that were happening today, and I was instantly overwhelmed by the simple fact that everything was going to be okay today. The morning greeted it with it's light and I greeted it with a brief,

"Good morning."

I stretched out from beneath the covers, and scurried out of bed to the smaller bed that faced it to see my little seven year old sister, Miah, still asleep in her baby pink covers.

"Wake up..." I whispered before kissing her on the forehead gently. Her eyes fluttered open and her unwavering grey gaze brought me to reality.

"You have to go to the Reaping? To be chosen? Oh no, Sage-" I cut off her worry by stroking her hair.

"Come down for breakfast." I said slowly. Miah nodded and we padded downstairs.

Once we were down, my Mom was laying curled up on the table, asleep. I nudged her, and when she sprawled out on her back, screaming, I saw burn marks across her stomach and hands.

"Way, away, away way..." She then muttered, curling back in a ball. I nudged her again and Mom leaped up, yelled out in despair, then scurried over to her room.

There's my mother for you. Ever since my older brother, Seymour, died in a mine collapsing, my mother was struck with grief. She ate little. Drank little. Cared for us less and less, and worked herself to the point she was briefly...insane.

Now I take care of my little sister, Miah, and have had to provide for her ever since she was born, which was seven years ago and the day Mom went insane.

"What will she do?" Miah whispered. I looked down at her sadly and said,

"Mom's starving herself. No water or food, an entire week. I'm not sure she'll last much longer."

Miah looked at the ground sadly.

"Oh no!" She said silently. I patted her head playfully and sat her down in a charred wooden chair.

"We won't starve. We eat the food." I reassured her. Miah pulled back her long dark hair out of her face and nodded. I made my way to the tiny kitchen to get the milk we saved, the rolls Mom rarely even nibbled on, two devoured by us, and two remaining, and finally reached to get the butter.

Where was the butter?

"We ran out!" Miah exclaimed with realization. I nodded, and we went down to the Hob for some butter.

"Wait...we don't _need _butter, do we?" She muttered, at the sight of all the people. Miah hated crowds.

"It's good for us, but I guess not." I replied, but when a stony hand gripped my hand, I turned to see a kind old man, Rufus, who was eyeing my milk and holding a stick of butter in his free hand.

"Kind boy...may I have that can of milk for some butter?" I looked at him, and seeing his ribs jut out, his eyes pale and worn, his skin tattered, I couldn't help it when I gave him the milk. He held out the butter for me to take.

He popped open the can of milk, waiting for me to take the butter, when I replied,

"No. You keep it."

I knew that butter was good for us, because it added fat, and fat was needed these days. Yet this man was suffering more than any man I have seen.

"You kind young man. May God bless you." He cupped his hands together, and put the cross sign on my forehead. I nodded and waved him goodbye as he vanished in the crowd of people.

"Let's leave..." Miah tugged at my sleeve.

"Okay, okay." I hastily replied, and we went down back home.

Once we entered, Miah sprinted down to her room, with me following.

"What should I wear?" She asked. This is my First Reaping, and now Miah thinks she needs to be the most beautiful spectator there.

"What about my hair? Braid? Bun? Down? Ponytail? Cornrows?" I was overwhelmed by her words. I laughed and said,

"Alright, I don't know how to do Cornrows. How about just down?"

Miah nodded and got dressed. I got dressed as well, and when we finished, we made our way down to the square. Miah pressed against me, horrified as crowds of people flashed by. She was put in the section for spectators only, and I was dragged away from her into the 12 year old section.

Now for the Reaping.

"Ladies first!" A woman, the escort, trilled.

"Delilah!" The escort finally said. Slowly, a young girl went up to the stage. Now the boy's name.

"Sage!"

I looked around at the faces around me, then calmly walked up. I didn't want to do this, but I knew I had to.

"NO!" I turned to see a young girl with dark hair and grey eyes run towards me, her hair down, her white and pink dress flowing. Miah!

"NO, SAGE! DON'T!" She screamed.


	16. Chapter 16

**DISTRICT 5 REAPING**

I leaped away from the career, then ran as fast as I could down the narrow canyon side. I was close to the edge when the pack gained on me. I teetered a bit on the edge, and turned to see them running towards me, their eyes dark, blood staining their knives, sweat dripping off their chins.

I yelled out in pain as a knife ripped into my leg. I slammed to the ground, and it seemed as if my body shut down. Agony tore through me as an ax cut away at my spine.

Feeling helpless and weak, I cried out,

"Help me! Help!"

Nobody heard. I whimpered in pain as I let them tear me apart.

My eyes shot open, and sweat coated my face and palms. I twisted around, checking to see if the dream was real, and sighed in relief at the sight. Skin still lay correctly over my unbroken bones, and there was no blood or gore caking my spine.

I leaned back against the bed, my heart pounding, then slipped out of bed.

"Gunnar? Come down here, sweetheart." I heard my mom's voice.

"Coming." I said. I wiped the sweat from my forehead, which I found to be wet like a river, than padded into the kitchen.

"Son, what happened to your face?" My dad said as I walked into the area. I quickly looked at our metal jar of mint leaves curiously. My reflection of a sweaty, red faced 13 year old boy with dark brown hair panted back at me.

I looked a bit like my brother, who died last year in the terrible Hunger Games. My brother, innocent in every way, chosen and killed by a pack of careers.

It was dreadful.

The dream from last night came back to me, and I instantly clutched my leg, feeling the pain I felt in the dream.

"Sweetheart?" My mom looked at me, shocked.

"I'm fine." I muttered, then let go of my throbbing leg and sat down in my usual seat at the table.

Mom served us dried biscuits and goat cheese with a big treat of blackberries that she must have traded at the store.

"Thank you so much!" I smiled at her while I ate. She smiled back as she ate her own share.

Afterwards, I went into my room and changed into a white shirt and worn blue jeans. I slipped into black boots and tied the laces.

When I were finished getting dressed, I let my mom comb my hair back so the dark brown strands were slick back in orderly fashion. I then brushed my teeth and washed my hands.

Of course, even though people are sentenced to death today, they also have to look their best. The Reaping is recorded every year by Capitol citizens. Not that it really matters, though.

A few years ago, a girl went there in her nightgown and slippers, and her hair was matted and sticking out all over. She stuck out like a sore thumb!

I kissed my teary-eyed parents, who probably were missing my brother again at the thought of the Reaping, and I made my way down to the square.

The place was huge, and children between the ages of 12 and 18 scattered the area. This was my second Reaping, and the odds of me being chosen were slim, fortunately. Considering this, I strolled easily to my section.

"Happy H-H-H-H-Hunger Games. M-M-M-M-Maybe odds be in y-y-y-y-your favor." A small lady with a short black pixie haircut and a long flowing golden dress stammered, sniffling between words.

"L-L-L-L-L-Ladies first." She sputtered, then picked out the girl's name. I felt my heart pounding at the realization; now the boy would be picked. That boy would be chosen. That boy would have to compete. That boy would die.

"Now, the B-B-B-B-B-B-Boys." The lady blubbered. She stuck her hand in the bowl, fished around, then removed her hand.

"G-G-G-Gunnar Duncain." She spattered.

Suddenly, I was stone. Gunnar Duncain. The name bounded through my brain at rapped at my temples. I felt as if my veins have burst on fire, yet ice kept my body still.

_Your going to die. Your going to die._

The new message my mind conjured up haunted me, and soon, I felt as if my jaws were steel. My muscles were stone. My bones water. My legs rubber. My tongue crispy dry.

"C-C-C-C-C-Come on, G-G-Gunnar." The lady babbled. I speechlessly walked up.

Suddenly, I saw the careers running towards me again. I almost screamed in horror at the memory of the dream, the careers tearing me apart, one by one...

The images of my brother being torn apart by the careers on the T.V., my parents, sobbing and calling out his name, me standing there, shocked and disbelieving.

I imagined that, but with my face instead of my deceased brother's.


	17. Chapter 17

**DISTRICT 6 REAPING**

"You have no freaking idea how much I expected from you, did you?" I smacked the flower out of Sean's hands, glaring with hatred as the weed clattered to the ground.

"It took me months to save up enough money for the seeds..." Sean whispered. He looked up at me sadly.

"I don't give a crap!" I stamped on the flower, squishing the disgusting thing into smithereens.

"Get lost!" I yelled at him. Sean scrambled away, panting like crazy, then vanished behind the crowd of people that formed to watch.

"You too!" I screamed at the crowd.

The statements _Yes, Brooke _and _Of course, no pressure _bounced around the grassy field, and I watched heads turn and feet flee from my presence. That's more like it. My friends respect me like I'm God, and that's _exactly_ what I expect. Not some stupid weeds as a gift.

I turned and strolled home, when suddenly my 5th boyfriend lunged in front of me. I forgot his name... but the dark red hair and brown eyes rang a bell.

"Hi...Jordan?" The uncertainty made it sound like a question.

"No. I'm Homer. Jordan is your other boyfriend." He snarled.

"You've been cheating on me!" Homer added, grounding his teeth together, his brown eyes black. I peered over his shoulder to see Jordan standing there, looking shocked.

"N-No!" I stammered.

"Brooke?" Jordan called.

"See?" Homer grabbed my wrists, glaring, then shook them hard.

"Ow! Stop!" I cried out. I shook rapidly, but he wouldn't let go. Then I slammed my high heels right into his groin. Homer let go instantly and tumbled to the ground.

"I should have listened to Katie." Jordan said,

"You _are_ a stuck up piece of crap!" He then turned and fled in fear I would kick his hole, too.

"Run, then! I still have three more boyfriends!" I yelled after him.

"Screw you!" I added, kicking up some dirt.

I crossed my arms and strolled off towards my house.

My family's house stood taller than the rest, and was made of beautiful lumber from our District Neighbor, 7. It was cherry wood, selected carefully by my dad, the richest man in the entire 12 districts, and he even had it painted carefully to match my favorite color.

The door was made of maple wood, carved by a teenage boy my mother hired, and the windows were glass bought from the Mayor himself.

Everything about our house was better than the rest, and it matched the brilliance of the Victor's Village. Hah. Maybe it was even better!

"Hello, sweetheart!" My mom greeted me when I entered. I smiled sweetly; I was their Angel sent from above, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Mom, I'm going to get dressed." I told her. She nodded, then continued mixing with the grand bronze cooking bowl and wooden spoon, definitely making something great. Probably for me.

Once I entered my fantastic bedroom, I tore off my deep orange dress, let my shoulder length hair fall free from my fancy bun, and kicked off my shoes. No bother to pick it up-that's the housekeeper's job.

I admired my extremely skinny, yet incredibly sexy and curvy body in the recently polished mirror, struck a pose, then got myself dressed into a long white dress with sparkling accents and golden shoes.

Pulling my hair up, I fixed it into two fishtail braids, and twirled in front of the mirror. I was gorgeous, as usual.

"You look lovely." My dad said as I gracefully strut through the kitchen. My mom handed me a braided bread roll, perfected with a treat of cinnamon sugar on top, with syrup threaded around it in crisscross shapes.

"Thank you!" I said, then kissed them goodbye. I walked off towards the square, eating the roll as I went.

"Hi, Brooke." I heard a voice. I turned to see Stephanie, my friend, walking behind me in a crappy frayed white dress with faded white shoes, her hair in a ridiculous ponytail.

"Your going to the Reaping dressed in that piece of crap?" I asked, glaring. Stephanie looked down at her shoes, ashamed.

"Omigod." I shook my head in disgust and finished off my roll before joining the 16 year olds.

"Ladies first!" The escort cried.

"Duh." I hissed, then stood up straight as she picked the girl's name.

"Brooke Jenkins?" She called.

Horror shot through my veins. I'm much to pretty to go into such a wild thing! I'm much to brilliant to be put in a disgusting arena to fight to the death! I'm much to..._ME!_

"Somebody better volunteer." I snarled to a girl beside me as I strut up to the stage.

"Any volunteers?" The escort asked. I crossed my arms and smirked at the crowd. It seemed like hours, and nobody volunteered.

Actually, it was more like five seconds, but it felt long. I stared in disbelief.

"How dare you all?" I muttered under my breath.

Then I had the perfect idea... I'd win sponsors over with my beauty. That simple! Duh! Why haven't I thought of this before?


	18. Chapter 18

**DISTRICT 8 REAPING**

I woke to the sound of silence, rather than the low humming from the textile factories that usually began brimming to life outside at this hour. Turning to look out the window, I realized that no boys or girls began to hustle out of their houses towards factories, like they normally did.

Oh. Of course. Today was the reaping. Nobody would be working today.

Instead, they would have to be dressed up, waiting for a girl and boy's name to be called. That boy and girl would be thrown into an arena, in the wilderness somewhere, were they have to fight to the death with 22 other boys and girls, each between 12 and 18, all Reaped from their own districts.

The worst part is, only one can survive.

That means kids will be killing each other, wandering in the wilderness, dying from hunger, being bit at by infections, and dying from thirst. Ruthless teens will be destroying each other for resources, food, and the mere fun of it.

How could the Capitol do that without giving a second look back at the ruins, the deaths, and the tragedy? It's their fault. I was usually happy almost all the time, but today I felt silently angry.

I twisted and turned in bed, remembering last year's Games, the bloody faces of dying tributes. That year was one of the most terrifying, since there was a terrible earthquake that pulled tributes into deep abysses, where creatures of unspeakable horror tore them to bits, one by one. Screams echoed in my mind, and I stifled a whimper.

"Casidy?" A voice sounded from my left. Craning my neck, I saw my brother, Joshua, looking at me with concern.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"N-Nothing." I said slowly. Two more boys popped up behind him. I studied their faces in the dim light, and saw it was Wesley and Edward.

"Hey, Sis." Wesley smiled. Edward's face expression didn't change, and he said nothing. His olive skin paled.

Something nudged me from the right, and a shiver went down my spine in fear. Flashbacks of previous Games ran through me. I shuddered.

"Are you alright?" I felt my 15 year old brother, Adrian, stroke my hair gently. I saw his bright blue gaze burn into my face from the corner of my eye.

"I'm fine, Adrian." I told him, and covered my face in my pillow, waiting for the bloody mutilated bodies to fade from my mind.

"Don't worry. You won't get picked." A deep voice, which must be Marcus's, boomed from the foot of the bed. I opened an eye to see him say,

"I've got it covered."

I knew then that he entered his name extra times for rations of grain and oil, to feed our family of seven. Five brothers, me, and papa.

"Oh." I let a puff of air out.

We all made our way downstairs, and Edward made us a meal, a rare treat of grapes and a roll for each of us. Papa couldn't join us; he was in bed, feeling sick. I knew he really wasn't sick, though.

He was grieving.

Once we finished eating, four of my brothers dressed up into neat white, black, and silver shirts, finished with either navy or crimson pants and white shoes. My remaining brother, Wesley, was 19, so he didn't have to be picked. He would still go to the Reaping though, and would stay in the fenced off section reserved for adults and family while children would wait for the name to be picked.

I decided to wear my mother's deep grey knee-long dress and pearl-white shoes with my curly brown hair left down by my shoulders.

"You look great." Joshua complimented as he slipped into his pair of white shoes, smiling. I smiled back.

Soon all of us were walking down to the square, with Edward and Wesley in the front, Joshua on my left, and Adrian walking close to me on my right. In the back, Marcus slowly sauntered behind us. All my brothers were protective, and they always stay close by.

Once we arrived, we were kind of late. President Snow just finished his speech, and I almost got trampled by an angry peacekeeper, who was just about to set off to find us.

"Get in there!" He hissed at us. Edward glared at him, and when the peacekeeper pushed me forward, Edward flipped out and shoved him off his feet. It was slightly amusing; the expression on the peacekeeper's face was priceless.

When we walked away, I took my place with the 15 year olds,, and the security of my brothers faded as they took their places.

"Ladies first!" The bug eyed woman with giant bosoms hopped to the girl's bowl.

"Casidy Reed!" She called.

I was traumatized, and suddenly the world went dark. I felt as if a heavy metal plate hit the back of my skull.

Tears silently slid down my cheeks, and I didn't even notice it as short whimpers escaped my lips. I could barely hear it though. I really couldn't hear anything anymore.

My ears started to ring. I turned to see all my brothers, easy to spot because they were staring at me with grief. I saw tears race down Wesley's face, and Adrian was already sinking into the crowd, muttering to himself.

I turned back to the lady and walked up, my heart pounding.

Visions leaped through my mind, and my brain suddenly settled on a subject...

My body, laying by a stream, with blood pouring from my temple. My eyes were a ghostly black, and my skin was pale.

I was dead.


	19. Chapter 19

**DISTRICT 2 REAPING**

I smirked at the girl, Roslyn, who looked about a year older than me, about 17, and slowly flexed my fingers.

"Chrome's definitely winning." I heard a boy mutter from behind me.

"No, maybe it'll be Roslyn. She's skilled with that axe." Another voice hushed him.

I grinned, because I knew the answer to that curiosity. I'm probably going to win, just like I did last year... And the year before.

And the year before.

Today was the Reaping, the day that each girl and boy in Training would practice what we have all been working for our entire lives;

The Hunger Games.

Of course, we wouldn't be allowed to penetrate any vital organs, only the simple pains of back stabbing and limb ripping. It is fun, though, I remember the past fights in which I won the battles.

I kind of wanted to volunteer for the Games, but my last years have been filled with my silence as my other friends volunteered. I always get this gnawing feeling in my stomach as the tributes walk up through the Capitol's cheers in their glorious costumes, jealousy flaring.

I liked killing, but hated seeing blood. I was vicious and strong, but nice at times. I wanted to bring pride to my family by winning the Games just like my friend, Addison, accomplished last year, but I never got Reaped and never volunteered.

I was lost in thought as Roslyn thrust her axe forward, inches from my face, as I stumbled away, my head spinning. Laughter erupted into the air as the girl in front of me drew her axe back, smirking.

Anger burned through my system, and I lunged forward to rake my long nails across her face, then taking a step back to let the pain sink in.

"No!" Roslyn screeched, scratch marks across her eyes welling up, blood dribbling down to her nose.

She stumbled around, blinded, as more kids around us barked in laughter. I pulled out my knife, then circled the stumbling blonde, fiddling with the weapon.

Roslyn drew her axe out, flailing her arm and slicing mid-air. I watched from a safe, respectful distance, my knife ready, then sent it sailing through the air, hitting her shoulder effectively. Roslyn howled in pain, then tumbled to the ground, her body racking into spasms.

"Good one, Chrome!" and "You showed her, Chrome!" rose up around the crowd, and I turned to see Addison give me a thumbs up.

The battle was soon over, Roslyn crying out in surrender, and I won.

"Great job!" Addison grinned at me, patting me on the back.

"You did awesome! What a clean kill!" More people joined in, smiles of admiration on their faces.

"Thank you so much!" I replied kindly.

"That was an awesome move! Can I use it?" Someone shouted at me from the crowd, and I turned to see Marcus smiling at me in wonder.

"Sure, why not? Thanks!" I said sweetly.

Once the crowd died down, most of the trainees began to head home, where they would get ready for the Reaping.

I came home swelling with pride, feeling nice and bubbly as I sprinted into my room to change.

My mom left a light yellow dress on my bed, perfected with matching shoes and something laid out on the bed.

As I examined closer, I saw it was a box. On it was a note, written so small I had to squint-

_Chrome, I know you _

_can win this thing. You are strong,_

_healthy, smart, and witty._

_If you go in this year, _

_I want you to wear this for me. _

I then opened the box.

Inside of the box was a beautiful ribbon studded with 16 gems, all glittering with color. My heart swelled with amazement at the gorgeous detail, then immediately looked at the note again, reading it over and over.

Once I was dressed, I pinned the ribbon to my dress, kissed my parents goodbye, then trotted down to the square.

"Ladies first!" The escort called after the speech by President Snow.

The next event happened so fast I barely had time to breathe when she called,

"Chrome Evelyn!"

Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, my heart racked against my ribcage, and my head spun with images.

Images of smiling faces, my friends grinning at me, patting me on my back as the Victor's Crown was placed on my dark curly hair. Images of me, in the wilderness, on TV, seen by all the districts, making my parents proud. Bringing prosperity to my district.

I will bring joy to my family! I will make them proud!

I bravely walked up to the stage, smiling all the way.


End file.
